She laid a stone all at her head, And another all at her feet, And down she lay between these two, 35 Till death had lull'd her asleep. When sweet Will came and stood at her head, And likewise stood at her feet, A thousand times he kiss'd her cold lips, Her body being fast asleep. 40 Yea, seaven times he stood at her feet, And seaven times at her head; A thousand times he shook her hand, Although her body was dead. "Ah wretched me!" he loudly cry'd, 45 "What is it that I have done? O wou'd to the powers above I'de dy'd, When thus I left her alone! "Come, come, you gentle red-breast now, And prepare for us a tomb, 50 Whilst unto cruel Death I bow, And sing like a swan my doom. "Why could I ever cruel be Unto so fair a creature; Alas! she dy'd for love of me, 55 The loveliest she in nature! "For me she left her home so fair To wander in this wild grove, And there with sighs and pensive care She ended her life for love. 60 "O constancy, in her thou'rt lost! Now let women boast no more; She's fled unto the Elizian coast, And with her carry'd the store. "O break, my heart, with sorrow fill'd, 65 Come, swell, you strong tides of grief! You that my dear love have kill'd, Come, yield in death to me relief. "Cruel her sister, was't for me That to her she was unkind? 70 Her husband I will never be, But with this my love be joyn'd. "Grim Death shall tye the marriage bands, Which jealousie shan't divide; Together shall tye our cold hands, 75 Whilst here we lye side by side. "Witness, ye groves, and chrystal streams, How faithless I late have been; But do repent with dying leaves Of that my ungrateful sin; 80 "And wish a thousand times that I Had been but to her more kind, And not have let a virgin dye, Whose equal there's none can find. "Now heaps of sorrow press my soul; 85 Now, now 'tis she takes her way; I come, my love, without controule, Nor from thee will longer stay." With that he fetch'd a heavy groan, Which rent his tender breast, 90 And then by her he laid him down, When as Death did give him rest. Whilst mournful birds, with leavy bows, To them a kind burial gave, And warbled out their love-sick vows, 95 Whilst they both slept in their grave. 5, so then.